Vultureman Taster of Poultry
by PickleInACup
Summary: An experiment with warp gas goes horribly awry.
1. Chapter 1

Vultureman; Taster of Poultry

Warp gas had been used in Plun-Darrian warfare since before Jaga was a cub. It's lethal toxicity was legendary. Brief exposure to the gas causes violent behavioral abnormalities. Excessive inhalation of the gas would result in permanent neurological damage, liquid lung and of course, death. Because of its devastating effects and the excessive extent to which the mutant armies had used it, Warp Gas had been banned from military use by the Interstellar Council altogether, but that never stopped the Plun-Darrian military from manufacturing it one way or another.

Vultureman, a mutant who prided himself as a bird with vision, saw further potential in the use of warp gas and sought to improve it. He had spent weeks laboring in his dark, dingy lab with no food and little sleep, experimenting with its chemical compounds. Should his calculations prove correct, the end result would be an incredibly potent strain of warp gas whose effects on the brain would be long-lasting; maybe irreversible.

But Vultureman did not settle for just that. He invented a strain of warp gas that could send the strongest willed Thundercat on a mindless, cannibalistic rage against his fellow Thundercat. Thus he had named it cannibal gas.

"I have it!" Vultureman held a grenade towards the ceiling in triumph, choking out a crazed laugh. "**This** will be the secret weapon that **annihilates** the Thundercats for once and for all!"

Two mice crawled out of a hole in the wall and scurried over his talons. Vultureman squawked, startled. "Awk! Test subjects…" Snickering, he wrapped a cloth over his beak, making sure to cover his nostrils, held the grenade towards the mice and held the release button.

A tiny red cloud engulfed the rodents. They hacked their lungs out for a moment or two. The first to catch his breath took one look at his fellow rodent and pounced. The gas had turned them rabid on each other. They became driven by a mad hunger, locked in a battle of claw and teeth.

Vultureman laughed as the rodents squeaked with pain and fury, biting huge chunks of each other's flesh out. Within seconds they fell to the floor in bloody, half eaten mess.

"Success!" Vultureman declared. "Lion-O will **never **see this coming! Not even the Sword of Omens will snap him out of the hysteria!"

He opened a window and waited a moment for the air to clear before removing the towel. Pleased with his work, Vultureman set the grenade on the last notch of a stand placed on his work table. "Tomorrow, they will choke on a **full **dose. In the meantime…" Vultureman grabbed a large toolbox from under the table. "Awk- The flying machine could use a tune up."

He was about to head for the hanger when a peculiar smell started to drift through the air. He instinctively dropped the toolbox and began to search for the source of the smell. He raced over to the table and began to inspect each warp gas capsules. To his horror, the grenade containing his latest experiment had been corroded through from the inside. The cannibal gas, or at least certain components of it had already begun to leak through.

Vultureman snatched it off the stand and quickly began to look around for anywhere he could contain the substance safely. "Can't inhale! Must find airtight container…" He said inwardly, trying to keep his beak shut and nostrils covered.

He heard a pop and the grenade exploded in his hand (as many of his inventions and experiments often did), spraying him with the noxious stuff.

Vultureman chucked the grenade out the window. Hacking violently, he collapsed on the windowsill, desperate to take a breath of fresh air. His lungs felt as if they had burst into flames every time he dried to inhale. Every nerve ending on his skin that the gas had touched swelled with fiery pain. His brown cheeks turned black and sickly pale flesh turned beat red as he coughed.

Then came the violent urge to vomit. Vultureman lurched out the window and heaved.

"N'ahh! What the fuck!" A jackal trooper on guard duty below cried as he was showered in Vultureman's vile, smelly stomach juices.

"CAW! Look out bel-" Vultureman couldn't even finish his sentence before the second wave of vomit escaped his gullet.

Just when Vultureman thought he had nothing left to puke up but his bones, his stomach settled. He fell to floor on his knees, exhausted and clutching his stomach.

"Awk! So..so **painful**…Somebody please kill me!" He begged, nearly in tears. Yes, he was in terrible agony. Every organ in his body burned. His stinging eyes watered and he still tasted the vomit, but at least he could breath well enough to express the horrible, screaming pain in words.

He wiped his beak with a shaky hand. His yellow eyes bulged open. An enticing smell graced his senses. Curious and desperate to get the taste of vomit off his tongue, he licked his forearm. "By the pits…I'm **delicious**!"

"Nyeh he he! Vultureman! What's going on up here?" Jackalman barged through the workshop door, scowling. Jackalman stopped to sniff the air. "Hu…something smells good."

Normally Vultureman would have told the sniveling cur to get lost (followed by a threat on his furry hide), but he needed someone to confirm his discovery. He used what little strength he had to crawl towards Jackalman, extending his forearm. "Come here and taste me, scavenger! I'm delicious!"

Disturbed by the buzzard's request, Jackalman backed away towards the door. He laughed nervously. "W-what…?"

"Just one lick!" Vultureman urged.

"It happened" Jackalman stated inwardly. "He's finally flown the coo coo's nest." He took one look at the obviously injured and mentally unsound bird and raced out the door, desperate to get as far away as mutantly possible.

"Don't go!" Vultureman begged. "Get back here and **TASTE ME**!" Suddenly he felt very light headed. The interior of his lab began to swirl around his head in a blur until everything went black. Vultureman collapsed to the floor with the delicious taste of his own flesh still on his tongue.

A/n: What other side effects could there possible be to Vultureman's cannibal gas, I wonder I wonder. Just to be clear, this is meant to be a short weird and comedic story inspired by the Invader Zim episode "Gaz; Taster of Pork" (this is NOT a crossover. I don't think a Thundercats/ Invader Zim cross over is even possible). If you have no idea what the hell I'm talking about, go on you tube or something and watch the episode.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Aftertaste

A ray of morning sun shined through the window and hit Vultureman in the face. He awoke with sore muscles and a splitting headache. "Aaawk!" He groaned, eyes struggling to adjust. "What time is it? What happened?"

The mishap with his cannibal gas replayed in his head. "Am I still…?" There was only one way to find out. Vultureman gave the back of his hand a quick lick. "Yes; still delicious."

He paced in a circle across the stone floor trying his damnedest to make sense of the situation. "So close! Caw! So close to success!" He lamented aloud, kicking a chair. "The cannibal gas must have distorted my metabolism somehow. Awwk- but why do I not crave vulture flesh? And what triggered such a bizarre side effect?"

Vultureman sat at his computer, skimming through notes, calculations and other such data he recorded during his warp gas experiments. A frustrated croak escaped his throat. "I'll have to conduct further tests on the gas before using it on the Thundercats. Can't afford it to backfire on me again."

Feeling disappointed and aggravated over yet another failure, Vultureman left his workshop for the castle showers. He hoped to wash away any cannibal gas residue left on his skin and hopefully the taste. He didn't have to worry about privacy. Castle Plun-Darr's showers are usually vacant.

Apparently not this morning however. Vultureman was greeted by the sound of water running and the stench of wet dog as he walked through the door. He was about to leave and come back later on when a jackal stepped out from behind one of the curtains (luckily wearing a towel already.)

"YOU!" The jackal cried, pointing an accusing finger at Vultureman. The buzzard immediately recognized the jackal's voice and cursed his shitty luck inwardly. It figures he would run into the guard he puked on the morning prior.

"Nyeh heh heh! Lousy cock!" The jackal guard continued, glaring daggers at him. "I've been in here for almost ten hours now! You can't wash away the stink of vulture vomit! I'll have to wait for my coat to shed and the skin underneath to **die!**"

Vultureman coughed nervously as the jackal stomped towards him with violent intent. In no mood or condition to fight, Vultureman fled the showers.

"HEY!" The jackal barked after him.

Vultureman ignored him. He turned the corner sharply and raced down the stairs. Halfway down he bumped into Monkian. They cried out as they collided. Being the bulkier of the two mutants, Monkian managed to stay on his feet while Vultureman fell on his ass, but luckily grabbed the railing before tumbling down the stairs. "Hoo HOO! Where's the fire, Vultureman?" Monkian asked irritably, adjusting his helmet.

"You clumsy oaf! Caw! Watch where the hell you're going!" The buzzard spat, pulling himself to his feet. "I'm in the middle of uncovering a major scientific breakthrough, if you must know."

"Whatever." Monkian grunted under his breath. "_You_ ran into m- er- never mind. I was heading up to your lab anyways to tell you we actually convinced Slithe to cook breakfast- ook- for once." He flashed Vultureman a death glare. "No good deed ever goes unpunished." He added before climbing back down the stairs.

"Awk- Breakfast!?" A smile formed on Vultureman's beak. Breakfast sounded pretty good right about then. He awoke with an appetite. Now he was starving.

Vultureman entered the mess chamber right in behind Monkian. They had arrived just in time. Slithe had just completed cooking and laying out the breakfast spread on the table. Jackalman was already wolfing down his share of eggs and bacon when Vultureman took a seat beside him.

Jackalman yelped and scooted away from him. Insulted, Vultureman scooted closer to him out of spite. He leaned over and hissed "Thanks for your help yesterday, you miserable scavenger."

"I'm **not** going to taste you!" Jackalman hissed back in a harsh whisper. "Who in their right mind would?"

"Awk! I'm telling you, I'm delicious!"

"I don't care! I'm NOT going to taste you!"

"Why?!"

Jackalman's ear twitched. "Nyeh- for one; you don't shower. Two; that's weird! You're **weird**, Vultureman."

"Quit whis-s-spering over there and eat!" Slithe ordered, pointing a butcher knife at the bickering mutants. "You ingrate bas-s-stards better enjoy this-s meal because-s-se it's-s the las-s-st one you'll ever get out of me!"

Vultureman resisted the urge to laugh hysterically at the sight of Slithe in an apron and gave Jackalman the evil eye. "Caw! We'll continue this later…"

Vultureman instinctively grabbed a bagel poured himself some hot scrum java (the breakfast of champions). Smiling in anticipation for the carb-enriched goodness, he took a bite of the bagel and ground it in his beak for a moment. Suddenly his eyes burst open. Something was terribly wrong. He spit out the bagel on his plate, gagging. "Awwk! What are you trying to do to me, reptile?!"

"What are you s-s-squawking about now, buzzard?"

"These bagels are terrible!"

"WHAT?" Slithe roared, offended.

Jackalman sniffed a bagel then took a bite. "Taste all right to me."

"Me too." Monkian concurred.

Vultureman dismissed the bad bagel and took a sip of java only to spit that back in the cup as well. He tried a fork full of scrambled eggs, some oatmeal, biscuits and gravy and spat it all back up. He nearly vomited when he took a sip of burble fruit juice. "Jumping zombie Ratilla! This is all **terrible**!"

"It smells fine. Nothing is spoiled." Jackalman insisted.

Slithe gritted his sharp teeth, resisting the urge to bash a chair over Vultureman's head. "Keep your beak s-s-shut before I rip it from your face!" He warned.

"But the food taste disgusting, Slithe! All of it!"

"Dis-sgus-s-sting _how_?"

Vultureman smacked his tongue against the roof of his beak, struggling to identify the flavor. "Everything tastes like…like…chicken." He said with a grimace.

Jackalman snickered. "Says you bird brain." He and the others shared a hardy laugh at the buzzard.

Vultureman slammed his fists against the table as he stood. "CAAW! What did you assholes do to my food?"

"Hoo! Nuthin'!" Monkian assured him.

They watched as Vultureman stormed out of the mess chamber. Slithe chased after Vultureman first, followed by the others as he entered the kitchen and began to rummage through the pantry. Vultureman began to stuff his beak with whatever he could grab.

"Aak!" He spat out half a banana onto the floor.

"Hoo hoo! Those are mine!" Monkian griped.

The bird ignored him, spitting up bread, grain, vegetables, roots, fruit preserves- everything was tainted with a strange aftertaste of chicken!

"Quit was-s-sting food!" Slithe ripped Vultureman away from the shelves. "We have to ration out our munchies, yes-s-s?!"

Vultureman jerked his arm free. "Out of my way!" He pulled out a knife, yanked open the freezer and started to carve hunks of meat from the deer, donkeys, wild boar and river fish hanging on the hooks. He tasted them all, only to hack them back up. "Horrible! Caw! Everything is horrible HORRIBLE!" he cried. Desperate, he ripped a drumstick off a turkey carcass and took a bite. "Wait…this taste okay…but that makes sense; it's poultry."

"Nyeh he heh! You're out of your mind, Vultureman!"

"Enough!" Slith grabbed Vultureman by the arm and twisted it behind his back. "Get out of my kitchen!" He shouted before literally throwing Vultureman out into the hallway.

Squawking, he collided beak first into the wall and fell to the floor on his back.

"And **s-s-stay** out!" Slithe added before slamming the door shut.

Vultureman sat upright, groaning and holding his aching head. "This can't be happening! Awk- It's all in my head. It **has** to be!" He jumped to his feet and raced up the stairs for the vehicle bay and hopped on the first skycutter he saw. Confused and desperate, he flew off towards the burbil village at full speed.


End file.
